Happy Anniversary
by d4202
Summary: It's the anniversary of Jason's death, and he goes to Gotham to remember. But, an appearance from Nightwing prompts a heart-to-heart about what brotherly love really is. BTW- some OOC, but my first fanfic and just a fantasy I have. Rated M for swearing
1. Chapter 1

I own absolutely nothing. Every character is property of DC Comics.

"So," Roy said slowly, trying not to panic. "What are you saying?"

Jason looked annoyed with him, but not in the playful banter sort of way the team was used to. "I'm saying I'm taking a break. For today. Tomorrow I'll be back and we'll be a team or whatever, but we're not today. I-" he paused, struggling to reveal what he wanted to say. He realized quickly he was too proud for it. "I can't be here today, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."

Kori stood open-mouthed and confused. Jason Todd was avoiding someone's gaze? It made no sense. He stood only a moment before moving to his bike. She went to follow, but Roy caught her by the wrist. She stopped moving, and watched the man leave without a single gun or mask. "What's going on?" she finally asked, turning to see a somber look on her teammate's face.

"Don't worry," Roy replied, and smiled a small fake smile. "It wasn't something we did. I don't think he'll be back for a little bit, though. It'll take him a day just to get to Gotham."

"Gotham?"

"Yeah. Gotham." Roy sat in the sand, his hat shielding his eyes from Kori's hurt and confused expression. "That's where his headstone is."

Jason arrived in Gotham at around seven, but the city was already dark, dirty street lamps shedding small amounts of light on the cracked sidewalks. He couldn't remember a time when he witnessed true light here. He had been careful crossing the bridge into Gotham, didn't want _them_to notice he was there, but in his haste to leave his team behind he had forgotten all his weapons and any ability to hide his face. Parking his bike in a forgotten alleyway, he flipped the hood to his sweatshirt as far over his head as it would go, and hoped it would be enough to get him to his first stop- Crime Alley.

Damien simmered in his rage alone in the cave. He had been given the night off and could do nothing about it. No amount of yelling could sway the Dark Knight's mind. The young Robin suddenly heard soft footsteps behind him and turned to see Dick Grayson in his guise as Nightwing. Damien turning back around and continued sulking.

"So, Bruce has you down here and not with him?"

Silence.

"He didn't tell you why, did he." It was more statement than question. Dick sighed as he knew that was the case.

"_You_ could always tell me," Damien finally grumbled.

Now it was Dick's turn for silence, for contemplating what should be said. He settled on simplicity. "It's Jason."

Robin immediately jumped to his feet, cape whirling around him as he turned to his older brother. "Is he here? Is Father taking him on? I could help combat Todd!"

Dick shook his head quickly. "No, it's not like that. I'm not sure where Jason is right now. He's got a team following him around these days. People I used to know." He sighed once again before continuing, the mood of the day getting to him somewhat. "This marks the anniversary of Jason's death. Bruce used to go it alone today, but when Jason came back as Red Hood and started fighting us, everyone was too distracted to mark the occasion. I guess now that Jason's away, he's picked up the tradition."

Damien scoffed, rolling his eyes at the explanation. "Todd should have stayed dead," he spat.

Dick tensed, outraged for a moment as a flicker of instinctual brotherly bond washed over him. "How could you say that?"

"How could you not?" Damien defended himself. "You're an idiot if you don't see it, Grayson. That imbecile crawled and clawed his way out of his own grave to meet a world that's only in harmony when it pretends he's still in the ground. And even before he became a criminal, he was only remembered as a failure."

Dick stood, eyes and mouth wide open, for a few uncomfortable seconds before absentmindedly taking a seat on the steps. Damien eyed him cautiously and also sat down; he had never said how he felt about the second Robin aloud to anyone before, and, judging by the reaction, he reasoned it was best to keep silent when Batman came back.

"You're right," Dick whispered, snapping Damien out of his own thoughts. "He _died_. Jason was _dead_. And it didn't matter what he was doing when he came back, we should have at least told him we mourned the loss. God, he doesn't even know we _mourned_ him."

Damien masked his nervousness in annoyance. "I didn't say those things so you could _pity_ him."

Dick's eyes were still unfocused; he barely heard the remark and didn't acknowledge it at all. Everything had suddenly clicked into place. Every punch, every stab, every gunshot. It all made sense. And it was all his fault.


	2. Chapter 2

Crime Alley looked no different than the day he tried to steal _those_ tires. He leaned against the wall, brick digging uncomfortably into his spine. Jason imagined what would have happened if he never found the car. Would he still have been killed? Would he still have stumbled into the Bat's grasp?

He shook his head when something began to prick at the back of his eyes. He couldn't believe it had been luck - good or bad - that brought him here that fateful night. It had to be destiny because, if it wasn't, if that day hadn't really meant anything, his death hadn't meant anything. His new life wouldn't mean anything.

Jason slid down to the pavement, drawing his knees up to his chest. He knew in the back of his mind that he shouldn't stay too long, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. The had been the first time he had really taken a moment to consider the implications of the day, and the first time he had been truly away from the pain. When he had been fighting with Batman and company, every day held the reminder of crowbars and maniacal laughter, but now, with some small amount of closure, he was experiencing the day as an isolated event, everything coming back to him in one large tsunami wave. And it hurt. He closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands a while before slowly getting to his feet. He was done here.

He walked away never realizing that the Dark Knight had watched him from the roof, had also imagined what would have happened if he had only parked somewhere else.

Kori sat silently on the beach a few steps from the hideout. She wasn't thinking of Jason anymore; she knew he would be safe if he wanted to be and, if he didn't want to be, she knew there was a certain man she supposedly didn't remember who would keep him safe.

Instead, she chose to think and worry about the red-head pacing back and forth in the small shack. Sure, Roy had seemed calm when he knew she was looking, but now that they were separated, the archer was a bundle of nerves. He was scared, was still trying to predict possible outcomes even though he knew there was nothing "predictable" about Jason Todd.

By the time Kori made her way inside, Roy had stopped pacing, but was still fidgeting a great deal. "It is pointless to worry about him," she said softly.

"I'm not worried," Roy defended, but they both knew that was a lie. She challenged him with a look. "Okay, fine, I'm worried. Not that he's going to get killed or anything. I'm not really sure what I'm worried about."

"I know," she replied simply, and they remained in reassuring silence for a while.

"I remember," he paused. Even after everything he had seen, the memory seemed _unreal_. "I remember hearing about Robin dying, and not really being affected by it. Dick had been upset, but he was in his angry loner phase, and we never really talked about it. I've never even heard Jason mention it."

"I hear him, sometimes," she said, wondering if she should be telling a secret that wasn't hers. "He has nightmares."

"Who doesn't in this house?" Roy added, and Kori smiled sadly.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No, but I would like to say you've come a long way. Who knew there was a heart under that very attractive façade! Look at us being all civilized." Roy grinned at the taller red-head.

Kori smiled back wickedly. "I guess we should do something _uncivilized then."_

_Roy's smile widened._


	3. Chapter 3

Damien left the older boy sitting by himself in the cave and went to find Alfred. Alfred was cleaning, as usual, and paid no attention to the little Robin interrupting his efforts. Finally, after standing silently in the doorway for a while, Damien spoke. "Grayson is having a mental breakdown in the Cave," he said nonchalantly.

"Is that why you've broken my rule of no costumes in the manor, Master Damien?"

Damien clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. The old man continued to clean. "Pennyworth, now is not the time for details. He's practically comatose. Are you going to fix it?"

Alfred finally turned around and looked disapprovingly at Damien, whose every muscle could be seen tensed through his costume. Feigning indifference, the butler realized. "Well, Master Damien, let's go fix it together. And on the way there, you'll tell me what happened." Alfred began walking towards the still open stair entrance.

"We talked about the Red Hood," he said darkly. Alfred stopped walking, the weight of the name hitting him especially hard. He still hoped the boy would come home, but he was grateful that at least he wasn't at odds with the family anymore. He wondered if Jason knew they still wanted him back, but the butler was smart enough to know that wasn't the case.

"What did you say?" he asked of the boy, more somber than usual.

"Does it matter?"

Ah, Alfred thought to himself. So the boy had said something that didn't sit well with Dick. "I guess it doesn't," he reasoned. They made their way down the stairs together.

Dick was gone.

He had slipped out after a while of staring at the case. He wasn't trying to be full of himself, but he thought he was a good brother to Tim. And, for a while, he was basically raising Damien on his own. But, truth be told, he had been a shitty brother to Jason. Granted, he didn't have much time to know the other boy, as he only met him a couple of times before his death. Then, when it had been revealed that Jason was back, he had only been confused. Not happy, or relieved. Just confused.

Real smooth for someone who likes to consider themselves a good big brother.

He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, unable to truly focus. He knew he had to avoid Bruce somehow, and he knew Red Hood would leave a trail Batman would follow (if he was even in the city), but these were things firmly planted in the background of his mind. He stopped abruptly, the logical part of his brain overtaking the emotional part, and sat on the edge of whatever roof he was on, dangling his feet over the edge.

"Get off my roof," a gruff voice said behind him. Nightwing's eyes shot open at the familiar sound.

Jason heard Killer Croc's roar from a few blocks away, the distinct noise carrying from the rooftops to the sidewalk down below. He tried to force himself to continue in his direction, to not pay it any attention like the good citizens around him, but his mind was filled with Roy and the fact that Waylon Jones no longer deserved the name "Killer Croc." Sighing, he turned around and began to run.


	4. Chapter 4

Jason realized two things when he arrived to the scene of the crime: 1) He still didn't have a single weapon, and 2) The idiot provoking Killer Croc was his brother.

By the time he reached the area, the two of them had already come to blows, and Nightwing did not look good. At this point, Croc would most likely be in a blind rage (Jason knew because that's what he would be in), but he had to try to get through regardless. So, for Roy- and Dick, but he wasn't going to admit that one- a hoodless Red Hood stepped in between the fighters.

"Waylon!" he yelled. The sound of his real name snapped some of the fury out of Croc, but he was still panting with rage. Behind Red Hood, Nightwing got up on wobbly legs, his heavy breathing coming from fatigue. "Alright," Hood said, stalling for time. He was never very good at being mediator. "Want to tell me what pansy-ass over here did?" Jason nodded behind him to the older man, who was staying silent even after the insult.

"He was trespassing," a gravelly voice replied. "Batman and I had a deal. No one bothers me if I don't do anything to land myself in Arkham."

"Listen," Jason said slowly. "I'm sure Nightwing didn't know. This isn't usually his city. And, trust me, no one here wants to take you back to Arkham. I know what you're doing," he added softly, "with Arsenal. I appreciate it."

Waylon grunted in reply, and turned to go back inside. "Get off my roof," he added one last time before disappearing into his building.

Jason turned to Nightwing, who seemed better now that he had a chance to breathe. It didn't look like anything was broken, but bruises were forming on his face, and Jason could only guess what it looked like under the uniform. "I don't have any bandages of antiseptic," he said, cutting to the point. He had no strength for sarcasm tonight.

"I'm alright," Nightwing said quietly.

Jason didn't like the brotherly tone. "No, you're not. You're an idiot. I bet you saw him and just assumed he was a monster."

"I've made that mistake more than once," Nightwing said back, trying to peel back Jason's anger.

Jason wasn't buying it. He took off running and jumped the short distance to the next roof before turning back to his older brother. "If he comes out again I'm not saving you. And you can shove your brotherly love right up you're a-" Suddenly, Jason was hit in the back by something and went down quickly. With no armor under his leather jacket tonight, the blow hurt, and Nightwing ran over praying Jason wasn't out cold.

Whatever hit Jason bounced back up, beaming at Dick. Damien had arrived.

"He's a good boy, Mrs. Todd," Bruce said, cowl down on the Batsuit once he knew it was safe. From the looks of it, Jason hadn't been to the cemetery, but the World's Greatest Detective never could solve the mystery of what his son was up to. He had stopped tailing the young man once he knew Jason wasn't in town for trouble.

Bruce sighed. "He's a good boy," he repeated, "but I'm not sure he knows it. I'm not sure anyone can see it anymore. I wish more than anything that he would come home, but it's becoming more and more unlikely."


	5. Chapter 5

Damian's legs were swept out from under him, and he hit the floor as Red Hood dusted himself off. "You little twerp!" he yelled, and Dick put himself between them, facing Jason.

Damian growled behind him. "What are you doing?"

"Robin, calm down," he said to the younger boy, without taking his gaze off the middle child.

"Yeah, Robin," Jason sneered. "Why don't you look before you leap next time, so I don't drop you off the building."

"My armor would _protect_ me," Damian replied. "But you are unequipped for a fall from this height. Damian paused, an evil smirk on his face. "I hear zombies are quite delicate, actually. You'd be in pieces before hitting the ground."

A year ago, the kid would be dead. No hesitation. Dick would probably be dead too, but now that the anger had been dulled by distance and time, the hurt he felt didn't make him act lethally towards protectors in Gotham. He had to answer to a team at the end of the day, and he didn't want to tell them he killed someone they used to know. A small voice told him he didn't want to do that to Bruce anymore, either, but that voice was easy to suppress.

Dick noticed his brother lost inside himself after the comment before the rage boiled to the surface. Surprisingly, the voice was cool and even. It frightened Dick more than the anger in Jason's face.

"I am not a zombie. I am just a guy who was on his way to a graveyard when he happened to hear some genius taking on Killer Croc. I don't have a gun, I don't have a mask, I don't have any armor. I'm here for a night, and then I'm out of here. Forever. So, if you could leave me _the fuck_ alone for one damn night, I'd appreciate it. Damian clicked his tongue, unsure of how to respond.

Dick, on the other hand, finally did. "No," he said. "I'm not going to let you go. I know you want your space, and you deserve what you want. But I'm your _brother_, Jason. I wasn't very good at it before, and I'm sorry, but it's time I step up. And stepping up sometimes means playing the bad guy in the short term so you can gain happiness in the long run."

"Stop," Jason said, but it was half-hearted, and Dick didn't listen.

"I'm your brother. And brothers love each other." He swallowed hard, afraid of what Jason's response would be. "I love you, Jason. When you were gone, I missed you more than words can say."

"Bruce-"

"Don't worry about Bruce right now! Bruce isn't here; I want to talk about us. I want my brother back, Jason. I'm not telling you to stick around forever. Just long enough that you can realize I'm telling the truth."

Jason looked down, willing himself to run away, but his hands were shaking, his legs were shaking, every fiber of his body was _shaking_ and he was planted to the spot. Damian was also surprised and silent, assessing the two brothers from behind. He wanted to bring up the fact that Jason had shot him at one point, but he couldn't find it in him to speak. When the young Robin saw Jason's hands begin to tremble at his sides, he realized the need for his silent cooperation.

Unfortunately, someone else did not. Nightwing's communicator beeped in his ear. No doubt it was Bruce, but saying anything in front of Jason would not trigger a good response. Dick could tell he was _so _close, but not answering would mean the Bat would track Nightwing, and a live confrontation would be even worse.

"Robin, keep our brother company while I take care of something," Nightwing said. Then, he added softly, "Please stay here, Jason. I know you don't want any type of fight tonight. That should include the internal ones, too." Jason's eyes darkened, but he made no move to escape.

Nightwing left the current and former Robins alone together, and hoped they would both be in tact when he returned.


	6. Chapter 6

"Batman," Nightwing said into the earpiece. "What's up?"

"I heard there was a run-in with Waylon Jones. Anything I need to be aware of?"

Nightwing quickly covered. "It was my fault. Nothing happened and we both left each other alone once the confusion was cleared up. Anyway," Nightwing sighed heavily, "there's something else. Jason is here and-"

"I know."

"You. . .know?"

"Traffic cameras caught him entering the city."

"And you, what? Followed him to make sure he wasn't shooting anyone and left him to his own devices?"

"Don't you think he wants some space from us?" Nightwing could tell from the other man's voice that Batman was getting defensive, but he was also aware that his own mind was a little furious.

"He needs a family, not a parole officer! Damn, Bruce, you're so stubborn. It'll never work out between you two like this."

"How much time did you spend with him before he died?" Batman growled through the communicator. "You don't know what's best for him."

Dick's hands were fists at his side. He attempted to keep calm as he spoke. "And how old was he when he died, Bruce? You haven't seen that he's changed since we buried him and he busted out?" He shook his head, anger overwhelming him at the accusations. "You're right. I messed up. Which is why I'm doing something about it. Listen carefully: before the night is up, you two will speak. But it will be on his terms. Before that happens, though, I'm going to be the good family member that makes up for having an asshole father."

He ended the conversation and cooled off before rejoining the group. He knew Bruce would be furious, but it would keep him away and, for once, that seemed to be the best option.

Jason and Damian had stood awkwardly facing each other until the older boy regained his ability to move and sat at the edge of the building. Reluctantly, Damian followed.

"You know, kid," Jason started, "you can go if you want. It's not like you can keep me here, anyway."

Robin scoffed in disagreement, but remembered Nightwing's plea of no fighting. "We are _both_ staying."

The silence continued after that for a while, before Jason once again spoke up. "You're a good Robin," he said quietly.'

Damian's eyes went wide with shock. He recovered quickly. "Didn't know you had it in you to be decent, Todd."

Jason sighed. "Just shut up for a second. If I don't say this now, I'm never going to." Damian nodded for him to continue. "Maybe it's because I was the one that failed, or maybe it's because the anniversary of my failure is today, but we need to talk, angry Robin to angry Robin."

Jason sighed again; even Damian could tell he was nervous. "You're a good Robin," he started again, "but you have a lot of rage. Which is good against criminals, but not so good against your dad."

Damian rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to push Red Hood off the building.

"I know you're got your own ideas. That's a good thing, too. You should be your own person first, and what he wants you to be second. But you can't for a second forget that everything he says to you while you're wearing that mask is to make sure you come back alive."

"I know," he said harshly.

"Damian." Damian finally looked at him. The gray-green eyes were dark with a permanent pain. "He doesn't tell you, but he loves you. So don't mess it up. He wouldn't survive burying _you_."

They both looked out at the skyline, hearts heavy. Robin opened his mouth to speak, but paused. He realized in this moment that Dick wasn't completely right. The Jason that had come back was their brother, yes, but was not the one they had mourned. The Jason that his father and brother had cried over was a failure, a brash and irrational memory that they took to the extreme as a _lesson_ for everyone who came after. The Jason here, the Red Hood, was no failure. He shouldn't be remembered only in terms of the Dark Knight. Realizing this, he finally got the courage to say what had been on his mind all day.

"Sometimes, I'm afraid I'm going to turn into you."

Jason tensed and looked over at the kid, who wore a blank expression. He desperately wanted to scream at Robin, punch him, do _something_ that would stop this heart-to-heart, but it was he who had opened the floodgates and now he had to sit there and watch them both drown. "I'm sorry," he said, and he was. He put a tentative hand over Damian's. "I promise, you're not going to turn into me. Dick would never let that happen."

Dick stuck to the shadows, watching the scene play out. _You're right_, he thought to himself. _I'm going to keep you both safe this time._


	7. Chapter 7

Damian knew that this wouldn't last, this silence and comfort, not for either of them. Jason's hand came off of his own, and the coolness there signified the end.

"Besides," Jason said mockingly, "only one black sheep per family, right?"

Before he knew what he was doing, Robin reverted back to his old self. "You painted _yourself_ black."

Jason stood, still calm and collected. This replacement didn't ignite the same resentment as the one with the Teen Titans. "Black sheep often do, Damian. Consider me a how-to guide. Everyone does. Anyway, I bid you farewell. Got a team that doesn't give a shit what color my wool is away from these enemy lines."

"Why are we the enemy?" Dick said, finally stepping into the scene. Jason didn't startle, knew the older boy was there the whole time. Damian, on the other hand, stood up quickly at the sound of his voice. "Jason, look at us. Not a single drop of blood all night. It _could_ be like this."

"No, it can't. If I had been thinking when I left, I would have brought a gun. And then, instead of trying to be brother dearest, you would have carted me off to Blackgate or Arkham or-"

"Shut up." Jason turned and saw Damian, arms crossed menacingly over his chest. "You shot me. Do you remember? That bullet gives me every right to despise you, ever right to tell Grayson to forget about you. If I can listen to you, you can listen to us."

Jason scowled at Robin, but turned back to Nightwing in silence.

Dick released a breath. "I realize not everything can be done or fixed in one night, but it _can _be fixed. If you don't want to talk to him, fine. But talk to me, to us." He gestured towards his youngest brother.

Jason was frustrated, unsure of how to put into words what he really wanted to say. The sentences came so much easier when they were backhanded comments towards Roy. When he finally opened his mouth, a cell phone rang out. He immediately dug in his pocket and answered the call. "Arsenal?" Nightwing waited patiently.

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Stay low. If they're coming here, they only want me. I'll draw them away from Gotham, and then we'll rendezvous where they were first uncovered. Do not follow. Got it?" His hand was nervously running through his hair. Nightwing and Robin exchanged confused looks. "Roy," Jason said quietly, "don't be dumber than you look. These guys are trying to blend in, which means they'll use human means to take me out. That shit is easy to see coming. Just meet me at the original coordinates." He hung up the phone.

"What's wrong?" Nightwing asked quickly.

Jason smiled grimly. "Well, I could bore you with details, or I could just leave. So, hate to cut it short, big D, but I'm out of here." Suddenly, Jason slipped over the side of the building and landed on the fire escape.

"Jason!" Nightwing yelled as he looked over the side. "We can help you."

"Let's face it, big brother. When's the last time someone in the Bat-family was able to help-"

The impact of the bullet hurt him more than he knew possible, dropping him off the fire escape and into the concrete below. Nightwing and Robin ducked after the shot rang out, but no other shots followed.


	8. Chapter 8

Whatever Jason had been talking about had come for him, and had left before it could be spotted by witnesses of any kind. Nightwing ran to Jason's side as Robin stayed on the roof and called for Batman. Jason looked to be in bad shape. He had no armor on, and probably broke some ribs falling into the sidewalk. With the bullet wound plus whatever internal bleeding, Jason needed help.

"Hey, Little Wing," Nightwing said gently, pressing down on the wound.

Jason gritted his teeth in pain. "Don't call me that," he said through wet coughs. "I'm taller than you."

Dick laughed through tears now coming to his eyes, but he blinked them back. No need for Jason to see him seemingly give up hope.

"Hey," Jason said. "No need to make this a chick flick. You got really close to patching everything up. Even I didn't see this coming. You fulfilled your brotherly duties. It's okay."

"You're right," Dick said quickly. "It's okay because _you're_ going to be okay. I'll make sure of it."

"And that's why I always looked up to you, Dick." His eyes were getting foggy, and he could taste blood in his mouth. Maybe this time, he thought, death wouldn't be as bad. He wasn't hoping to be saved this time, and the stress that came with false hope pooled around him like his blood. It was peaceful. But there was unfinished business here, and in a way he always knew the only way he could tell his family the truth was if he knew he wouldn't have to say anything after. So, to Hell with pride. "It was never about being good enough for him. It was always to be good enough for you." Jason smiled, lips stained with blood. "Stupid, I know. I learned early there was no matching your skill."

"No, not stupid, Jason. You have so much passion, I could never match _you._ I see now, Jay. It all makes sense. You never really tried to kill any of us, did you? You were just trying to stop caring. But you don't need to stop, because I care about you too. I promise, I'll make this better."

"I'm going to die, Dick. It's okay." His eyes never faltered, never strayed from Nightwing. "I've done it before, remember?" Nightwing cringed, pressing harder on the wound.

"No, you're not!"

"It's okay, Grayson. Do you remember, that one time we went camping? That's kind of what it feels like now. Like we're where we belong."

They were both crying now, Nightwing openly sobbing and Jason with small tear tracks on his face. Then, slowly, he closed his eyes, and stopped breathing.

Batman and Robin swooped in to see Nightwing hunched over Red Hood's body performing CPR. Somehow, he heard the two land, and turned to them with fire and tears in his eyes. "Save him!" he screamed, and Damian froze in place at the tone of his voice. Batman, though, ran to Nightwing's side, simultaneously pushing a button to retrieve the car.

"How long has he been without oxygen?" he asked gruffly. He couldn't say dead- could _never_ say dead, not again.

"He just stopped breathing, it's been about thirty seconds. I just need to stop the bleeding, but we didn't have anything and he just gave up. Why would he give up? What the fuck, Jason! Why would you give up?" All through the babbling, Dick kept pumping on his brother's chest, but he was pulled off by Batman who bandaged the wound quickly and restarted CPR. Dick saw the car arrive and opened the doors, yelling at them to get in. Damian, instead, pulled out the chest shocks and handed them to his father, who opened Jason's shirt and attempted to jolt his heart into beating.

Damian turned back to Dick, who had gone eerily silent. He was staring at the limp form of Jason Todd, his eyes blank and dull. The tears had dried, and Damian was frightened by the hollow look. He walked closer, and awkwardly took the hand of his brother. It was covered in blood.

"You were right," he said, and the voice was just as frightening as the gaze that now turned on him. "He should have stayed dead. He would have never had to go through this again."

"No," Damian said. "I was incorrect."

Both their heads snapped in Batman's direction when they heard him stand up. He was carrying a barely-breathing son.


	9. Chapter 9

The surgery had gone surprisingly well, and Alfred was able to convince both Damian and Dick to get some sleep, even if it was on some blankets next to the medical cot. They slept soundly next to each other, a perfect picture in Alfred's mind of brotherly affection.

Bruce did not sleep. In the few moments when he wasn't standing at Jason's side reading the monitor, he was at his computer, researching what tried to kill his boy.

Arsenal and Starfire had been called soon after Batman gave up searching his own records, but they would tell him nothing until Jason woke up.

"It's not our story," Roy told the older man. "Besides, don't you just want to focus on Jason right now?"

No, he didn't. He didn't do well when he focused on Jason, couldn't look at his other sons the same when the estranged one was on his mind. Instead of answering Roy's pointed question, Batman went back on patrol.

Roy shook his head sadly and thought of his own mentor.

When the heart rate monitor increased, Dick woke up instantly, standing at the bedside and calling for Alfred. Instead of Alfred, two former friends showed up. They all briefly looked at each other, heart rate forgotten for the moment. Then, Roy stood by Dick and acknowledged the sleeping man. "You should move the kid," he said grimly, motioning towards the bundle still sleeping on the floor. "It's about to get very loud."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, but he had already picked Damian up.

Kori sat on the edge of the bed and brushed Jason's hair from his forehead. Dick felt a twinge of something in his heart. "He's having a nightmare," she said sadly. Soon after she explained, Jason began to mumble, and the heart rate increased even further.

"Well, what do we do?" Dick asked after laying Damian on the chair by the computer.

"We wait it out," Kori replied. "It's highly unlikely we'll be able to wake him up, but we need to make sure he doesn't hurt himself further."

Jason began to sweat.

_He was thirteen again or, more specifically, he was watching his thirteen year old self. He was watching his thirteen year old self die._

_There was some part of his brain that knew this wasn't right, this wasn't real, but that part was buried right now, and all he really knew was that the crowbar looked like it hurt. Every stroke made a cracking sound. Blood was everywhere, flying all direction. Ninety percent of his body was the purple and black hue of a bruise. One eye couldn't open. Then, he saw who was at the other end of that crowbar, and it wore a cape and carried the emblem of a bat across its chest._

_It was his partner. It was his mentor. It was the only thing he had that passed for a father._

_He saw the man mumble something, and suddenly there was less space between his ghostly figure and his dying form._

"_Worthless!" he heard now, and he became even more horrified. "I told you to stay! You're not good enough! No one __**wants**__ to save you!"_

_He tried to pull Batman off of himself, but his hand went straight through him. No one seemed to notice. "Batman!" he yelled, but no one heard. "Dad!" he yelled louder._

"_And look at you now! You're just giving up! Your mother knew you were good for nothing and now you've finally realized it too."_

"_Stop it! I didn't give up! It's not my fault!"_

_Finally, the form of the Bat turned to him, seemingly loomed over his smaller frame. "Your death is your fault, Jason. And no one is coming for you."_

"_Please," he sobbed, finally collapsing to the floor, laying next to his younger self, staring at him through tear-filled eyes. "I was a good soldier. Stop hurting me. It was a good soldier, I was a good soldier, I was a good soldier, I was. . ."_

". . .a good soldier, I was a good soldier." Jason kept babbling and crying, while Dick held him up against his chest, trying to will him to stop. Kori tried to help, but Roy held her back, whispering that this was for the brothers to get through. She nodded reluctantly, leaning into the archer's touch. Meanwhile, Jason began to quiet down, but he was still crying into Dick's chest, and Dick's heart was breaking at the sound. They had never been close, but hearing the nightmare had ignited his instinct to protect his little brother for the second time that night. He rocked Jason back and forth.

The two standing by the bed heard footsteps behind them, and turned to see a bleary-eyed Robin. The boy looked confused, and still had the fog of slumber around him. "What's going on," he asked the two strangers.

Dick half turned on the bed and told him to go back to sleep over Jason's soft cried. Damian shook his head no.

"Tell me what's wrong with him," he demanded. Dick sighed heavily, loosening his grip somewhat on Jason. He could only handle one brother at a time.

"He's asleep, little D. Everything's fine, it was just a nightmare."

Damian paused, assessing the situation before him. "I thought he was stronger than that," he said, truly disappointed.

Kori's eyes blazed as she looked down at him. "He is one of the strongest people I know."

"He cries like a child."

"He holds his pain in until he can no longer contain it! He was beaten, buried, resurrected, and shunned and still manages to be an honorable and brave man. He is stronger than you could ever hope to be."

Damian, fully awake after the outburst, stood as tall as he could, offended by the woman's remarks. How dare she comment on his strength when she had never met him before?

Dick read his mind, and said softly, "You're angry because she made an assumption about you from the way you're acting in this moment. That's what you're doing to Jason. Think about it- do you really know him? Can either of us judge his actions or decisions, if we never bother to ask for a motive? Or if we ask, and immediately dismiss it?

Damian still stood straight, betrayal and just a hint of acknowledgement evident on his face. "You defend a murderer."

"You were that once. Don't forget."

Kori and Roy watched the exchange in shock and complete silence. Dick had had his patience and strength taken from him with Jason. He had none left for the brother in front of him now.

Jason was laid fully down on the bed and Dick stood up, facing Damian and sighing heavily once again. Damian looked him in the eyes, but did not see anger there. Just exhaustion. He didn't cower when Dick also held his gaze. "Do you love him like a blood brother?" Damian asked.

"Yes." No hesitation, no tremor. Dick had finally made up his mind on the matter. Maybe it would turn out too little too late, but until Jason woke up it was something.

"And what about me?" Damian said, his voice strong even if it took every fiber of his being to keep it that way.

Dick's eyes softened, and he knelt in front of the boy. "Yes," he said, giving a small smile. "Always."

Damian nodded once, and glanced briefly at the sleeping body. "He will need food when he wakes. I'll retrieve Pennyworth."


	10. Chapter 10

After Damian left, the Outlaws relaxed. "Cute kid," Roy said sarcastically.

Kori looked sideways at him. "He has good intentions, but they're very black and white. He judges harshly because that's how he feels he is judged."

"I thought you didn't like him!"

Kori rolled her eyes. "Richard was correct. I was presuming too much of the child."

"Wow. So, you mean, Dick was _right_ about something? Let's throw a party!"

Dick rolled his eyes and laughed at the two of them, remembering their old days together, missing those simpler times.

Suddenly, Kori gasped and pushed Dick aside to kneel by Jason's bed. Yeah, Dick thought, sometimes he really missed old times. The two boys turned in her direction to see Jason opening his eyes. Roy moved to the other side of the bed, but Dick stayed behind, watching the exchange between the three. It was like his past had evolved without him, and he was no longer a part of it.

Jason, on the other hand, didn't see it that way, at least not in this moment between sleep and pain killers. His mind, so focused on recovery, forgot for a second his aversion to his older brother. For once, he just wanted to be close. "Dick," he said, his voice raspy, "what happened?"

Dick swallowed. "You were attacked by something. We're not sure-"

"No, no. I mean after. Is everyone in one piece?"

Dick smiled, moved a step closer. "Everyone's fine. It shot you and left."

Jason nodded, then blinked a couple of times. He could hear his heart pounding in his head, a reminder that this was the second time it had stopped beating. "Where's Batman?"

"I'm here," Bruce said, and the three standing gasped and turned in the direction of the voice. Jason tried to mask his surprise, but he was still hooked to the sensors, and his heart rate spiked for a second at the image of whatever Batman was to him in this second.

"The thing that attacked me is part of a group called the Untitled. They're trying to hide in plain sight, but as far as we know they aren't in Gotham. The one that shot me is probably from a small neighboring town, but it won't be back in the big city."

Batman nodded and kept silent. He didn't take off the cowl because of the strangers in the room, but also because he couldn't leave himself vulnerable like that. Meanwhile, Dick was praying he would say _anything_ that would show some sort of vulnerability.

Jason's eyes narrowed at the silence. His brain finally caught up to his past, and his shield was slowly but surely returning to him as well. The wall that had crumbled with Dick and Damian built itself back up again in the Dark Knight's presence. "Aren't you going to yell at me for getting tracked here? For being in your city in the first place?"

"No." Batman remained still.

"Fucking hypocrite. You would say that to _anyone_ else."

"Jason, please," Dick pleaded, but no one in the room heard him. Even Alfred and Damian's arrival couldn't stir the two out of their staring contest.

"It's because you're my _son_," Bruce said, but even Dick could hear the accusation in his voice, the subtext of 'You're my son and you must do as I say.' He understood that this was Bruce trying his best, but he also understood Jason wouldn't see it that way.

"Now you pull the son card? Not when you were trying to slap cuffs on me?" Jason realized too late that it was Gotham and the nightmare and the eyes on the cowl affecting him, but he couldn't apologize. He _had_ to keep going. If Batman wasn't going to open, neither would the Red Hood.

"Jason." A falter in the Dark Knight's voice.

"No. _No._" Red Hood persona back in full force, he ignored the pain as he sat up in the bed. Batman didn't move to stop him. The so-called "son" wasn't sure if that was what he wanted or not.

He shot Batman a steely gaze. If this was the path the man wanted to go down, who was he to object.


	11. Chapter 11

The Outlaws held their breath, conflicted about what was best for their brother in arms. Dick hovered by the bed, just as conflicted for his brother of a different sort. Damian hovered by his father, conflicted about who was right. And Alfred lingered behind them all, wondering if he would have to bury the memory of this child a second time.

"You were murdering people left and right," Batman said, his voice no longer betraying emotion to the rest of the room. Dick slumped, shoulders dropping an inch. His hope was gone. Jason would soon go with it. Alfred also visibly stooped, not something that usually occurred.

The Jason from Killer Croc's roof dissipated before Dick's eyes. "You tell me one innocent person I killed and I'll agree with you that I'm a murderer. _One_ innocent."

Batman was silent. To his credit, Red Hood tried to stand up on his own, ripping I.V's out as he went, but the medication was wearing off and the broken ribs were more prominent now. Kori saw what he was doing and helped him up. Roy took his place on the other side of their leader.

Dick saw them, and couldn't find it within himself to bar their exit. They were all broken pieces of who they once were, and it seemed from his perspective that ethey were only complete together. They leaned on each other, not because Jason was injured, but because they understood each other's _past_ injuries, maybe in a way Dick would never understand.

They took a step towards him. Jason and Dick locked eyes, unstoppable green meeting immovable blue.

Then, Dick moved, and allowed the trio to walk past. Damian stood gaping by his father who was the next barrier in their way. Still wearing the cowl, he looked like a statue, and refused to give in as Nightwing had so easily done.

"Batman," Damian said slowly, praying his father would not be extremely furious, "we should allow them to leave. He does not wish to stay, and he has a support system for his wounds."

Batman's jaw clenched, but he did not turn his eyes from Jason. Jason, on the other hand, turned his eyes on the kid. Damian could see he was in pain, that he was tired and hurting and so extremely _sad_ that it was hard to stare back at him. He stared back anyway, and saw something else in the gun-slinger's eyes.

A thank you.

Damian's jaw also clenched. His next action would spell betrayal for his father, would land him in troubled waters. It would make him defy Batman; it would make him like Jason Todd.

He took three concise steps and stood next to Starfire, putting his arm around her waist to touch Jason's back, simulating that he was also holding him up.

Now it was Dick's turn to gape at the scene before him. He almost though it was him that hit the sidewalk, and that this was a dream his mind made up, tottering between a plausible situation and hopeful outcomes. It was only after he saw Bruce's face that he realized it might not have been Damian's best idea.

"Robin," Jason said, breathing too heavily for Dick's liking. "Thanks for the help, but I would appreciate it more if you listened to what I told you before." It seemed like Jason also saw Batman's face, which was emanating rage and betrayal. His son turned from him to the black sheep, and he would be damned if he had _two_ sons walk away from him today.

"Jason," Damian said defiantly, oblivious to what Jason and Dick were thinking. "You have done nothing wrong. You have no weapons, nor was your intention to harm the inhabitants of this city. You should be allowed to leave if you wish, and, as a protector of Gotham City, I am obligated to help you."

Dick smiled. Then, he took two long strides and ended up next to Roy. _Screw consequences,_ he thought to himself. _Brothers do stupid shit together all the time._ "Robin does have a point," he said finally, and Roy nudged him and grinned.

"No, man, come on!" Jason said, exasperated. "Will you guys cut it out? This isn't on you. I just want out of here. Stop acting like-"

"Family?" Damian finished for him, and threw a haughty grin at Jason. Kori laughed and ruffled the boy's hair.

Alfred saw, and was content to watch the interaction, heart swelling only with pride at the show of friendship between the three brothers. Finally, they had realized they had each other. Now, if only Bruce could realize it.


	12. Chapter 12

Batman stood, rage in check, completely unmoving, shoulders tensed and squared. Alfred closed his eyes and prayed. _Please, God, don't let it be too late._ But, his mind also thought quietly, that it was too late for prayer. The fate of his artificial family rested on the shoulders of a man who knew how to fight for anything other than this.

"Jason," the Dark Knight said, voice just as gruff as if he had said the Joker's name. This was not lost on anyone in the room. "We should talk in private."

"No," Jason said, refraining from shaking his head and becoming even dizzier. "Everyone here is someone who has saved my life. If you want to say something, they are allowed to hear it."

The lenses on Batman's cowl narrowed. Kori tapped Damian's shoulder and switched places with him, Damian sagging under the new weight. "Arsenal," she said, her regal voice echoing in the cave, "this is a family affair, and we have an Untitled to track."

Roy nodded, serious for once, and also moved away, allowing Dick to take his place. Jason grunted from the shift, pain from the wound on that side and from the extended time spent standing up when he really should have been resting. Kori touched his face softly, and then turned towards Batman.

"If you hurt him any more than you already have, I'll be coming back for your head on a pike."

Dick couldn't help but smile as the two Outlaws left, silently thanking Kori for her protection of Jason. Not many had the stones to say that to Gotham's vigilante. After they exited the cave, Alfred pulled the chair from in front of the computer to Jason, who was deposited in it as gently as possible. The rest of the family stayed standing, Batman opposite the three boys, Alfred once again taking up his spot behind them all.

Damian pulled his domino mask off and spoke first. "This is ridiculous."

"Damian," Dick said, also pulling off his mask. "Don't you think we should be _silent_ moral support?"

"I don't need _any_ moral support," Jason said bitterly.

Dick smiled. "Oh, please. Everyone needs support. Even 'tough' guys like you."

"You've been hanging out with the toddler too long, you've got a child-like view of people."

"Hey!" Damian yelled, offended, while Jason and Dick smirked.

"My God," the boys heard, and everyone turned to see Alfred staring at them in disbelief. "They're acting like brothers. Finally, they act like family, and the one man that brought them together, that called them _sons_ won't act like a father?"

There was silence for what seemed like hours as Bruce heard Alfred's words ring and echo in his mind. He turned back to his Robins, his children, and was ashamed. He had watched Jason sleep, had prayed and begged for his safety, but as soon as the boy had opened his eyes, he had panicked, had been more afraid of what would happen if he opened up than what would happen if he didn't. And look where it had gotten him, He finally pulled the cowl off his face, ice blue eyes meeting the gaze of all three of his children.

"I'm sorry," Bruce said, but, like he predicted, Jason just got angrier.

"Sorry isn't going to cut it, not after you branded me your failure. I don't give a _damn_ about your apologies." Jason practically snarled at the older man.

"What do you want then, Jason. Do you want me to forget about the bomb, the beating? I _can't._ The father in me will never forget carrying your broken body out of the rubble. Why is it so terrible for me to do so?"

"I have nightmares that it's you!" Jason cried, and the outburst needed no more explanation. Everyone in the room understood and was silent. Tears formed in Jason's eyes, and Dick tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but it was shrugged off angrily. "_That's_ the kind of relationship my subconscious thinks we have. So don't preach to me about being a father. You are _not_ my father."

"You think," Bruce swallowed, shook the sound of his breaking heart out of his ears. "You have dreams that," another pause, "_I_ killed you?"

Jason wouldn't meet his gaze. Dick successfully put a hand on his shoulder, and Damian shuffled closer to the chair. Alfred, relatively unnoticed, white-knuckled a tray.

"What can I do to fix this?" Bruce whispered.

"Stop thinking I'm your broken toy, for one!" Jason yelled, and even through tears his deep voice had power. "You think all I'm capable of being is an Arkham inmate or a rehabilitation project. I wear _your_ symbol to prove you wrong. So, how do you 'fix this,' Bruce? How about letting me be Jason Todd, and not your dead failure of a Robin. Because _he _wanted to be your son, but I sure as Hell _don't._"

The tension in the room was palpable. The exhaustion, the pain, even the Cave had gotten to Jason and now, ironically, he had lied and yelled himself into a grave he couldn't dig back out of. It was over. The boy stealing tires in Crime Alley, the boy who became bigger than life in red and green and yellow, the boy that desired a family so much he was blown up for it, ceased to exist. Unlike what he expected, there was no relief. The weight he constantly felt on his shoulders only seemed to increase, the blood he constantly felt on his hands seemed only to get darker. He finally severed all ties, and it made him less than what he was before.

When Jason refocused his eyes and snapped out of his daze, Bruce's cowl was back on.

"Get out," Batman said, and walked off in the direction of the stairs into the manor. Jason watched him go.

"Would it kill you to love me while I'm breathing?" Jason whispered after the retreating form.

"Jason," Damian started, but Jason just held up his hand. He knew what was coming next.

"You have a sense of loyalty I admire, kid. Go."

Damian bounded after his father. Another connection lost, and he felt its absence in his heart, even if he only knew the boy a night.

Alfred cleared his throat, gave the boys what he hoped to be a reassuring smile, and followed Damian out. A connection not entirely lost, but strained almost beyond repair.

"Come on," Dick said. "Let's get you back to _my_ friends."

Jason half-smiled. "They like me better."

"Whatever you say, little bro."

Richard Grayson. The golden child. The favorite. The one Jason hated because he loved. The only connection left.

The hand on his shoulder.


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

"You know, Jay, I have to tell you, this hanging out on a beach thing isn't so bad," Dick said, sinking deeper into his lounge chair, sunglasses firmly planted over his eyes.

"Yeah. Kind of makes hanging with the redneck worth it."

"You suck," Roy grumbled, sipping his soda from a bendy straw. Jason smiled and shifted his feet in the sand, toes finding the cool grains that hadn't baked in the sun yet.

"So, I take it you found whatever that thing was and took care of it?"

Jason stopped fidgeting and looked over at Dick. He had to admit, the guy made an effort to tip-toe around the word "kill." Hell, the guy made an effort to tip-toe here, without the Bat knowing. Would it be so terrible if he didn't pick a fight, just this once?

"Yeah. It took us a while to find it," he acknowledged, turning his head to look back at the ocean once more, "but we managed to track it to this tiny place in New York. Anyway, doesn't matter now."

Dick sipped from his beer, a comfortable silence passing over the three. Dick didn't think it would have been possible to worm his way back into Jason's life after what happened at the Cave, but he had made a promise to himself and to his brother that he would be better, and it seemed as though Jason was also making an effort. Every time Dick stopped by, the guns were no where to be found, and, frankly, Dick didn't really look for them.

"So," Jason started. "How is he?"

Dick didn't need to ask who he was talking about. Roy took a sudden interest in getting another drink, and left the two alone.

"He's alright," the older boy replied. "I think he realizes now that everyone was under a lot of stress that night. He's not mad anymore."

"That's code for 'He doesn't mention you at all,' right?"

Dick grimaced. So much for reconciliation. "Right."

"That's fine."

Dick's eyes widened. "That's. . .fine?"

Jason looked over at him, eyes still sad but a ghost of a smile on his face. "You know, he never called me his son while I was Robin. I think that must have started after I died, _because_ I died. And I don't want him to call me that now just because I'm back. I want him to _mean_ it, like when he says it to you, or to Tim or Damian. Which means I'll have to earn it, and I will, someday. But, right now, I'd rather sit here and have a beer with you and the eaves-dropping ginger."

"Hey!" Roy said from his terrible spying post a few feet away before walking up to join them again.

Dick laughed and took another swig while Jason's words sunk in. Bruce was complicated, as was Jason, but maybe one day it could be as simple as this with them, too. And, even if it couldn't be, at least Jason had _him_ now, unlike before. The Red Hood just needed some connections, some relationships. They didn't have to be connections to people with pointy ears for those connections to matter, did they?

Jason heard a tongue click behind him and sighed dramatically. "Remind me again why you brought the toddler along with you?"

Dick smiled at Damian's grumbles of protest. "He was getting a little stir crazy in the manor. You know how it is."

"That I do."

"Besides," Dick said cautiously, "he said you called Alfred?"

Jason tensed a bit, defensive. "Yeah, I did. What does that matter?"

"Well, he thought if you and Alfred are okay, and you and I are okay, then you'd be okay with him, too."

Damian straightened. "Alfred's first loyalty lies with Father, as does mine. I wasn't sure if you would find a relationship with him or myself acceptable."

"Didn't I tell you before that I admired that loyalty, little D?"

"Well," Damian stammered, "yes, but I wasn't sure-"

"Look," Jason said as he turned around to look at his little brother, "you and Alfred both walked away to make sure _he_ was okay, not because you wished I wasn't. I don't blame either of you for that. You were looking out for your own, and it wasn't like you two were the ones who kicked me out."

"That's true," Damian reasoned.

"Moving on from the brotherly love crap, where the Hell is Kori?"

Just then, a scantily clad Tamaranean popped up from the surface of the water, hair dripping down her back, bright green eyes twinkling mischievously at the boys on the beach.

"Jason," Damian said, coming out of the trance Kori had just put him in, "I'd like to be an Outlaw."

Jason stood up and patted him on the back, smiling wryly. "Maybe _after_ you hit puberty, kid."

**END.**

A.N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story, I greatly appreciate it. Hope it wasn't too terrible and that you enjoyed at least a little bit! =)


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